


hurt me while i hurt us all

by Blownwish



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angst, Breathplay, Ed cheats on Winry, Extramarital Affair, M/M, Yaoi, no happy ending, royed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 22:27:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11045613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blownwish/pseuds/Blownwish
Summary: Prompt:I would love some royed with consensual breathplay, please and thank good kink memers. <3(anon author's note: Hope anon doesn't mind the extramarital affair part.)





	hurt me while i hurt us all

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Fullmetal_Alchemist_Kink_Meme](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Fullmetal_Alchemist_Kink_Meme) collection. 



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> I would love some royed with consensual breathplay, please and thank good kink memers. <3
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> _(anon author's note: Hope anon doesn't mind the extramarital affair part.)_

Ed knew would be reported if he was seen in East City. He was expecting it. After all, this was _his_ city. _He_ was always watching, always waiting for Ed to come back, and Ed never failed to return. No matter how much he loved Winry and the kids, there was something tethering him to this city, to _him_ , pulling him back when the country nights were long and he sat in his marital bed aching for him.

It was as if _he_ himself was watching Ed while he stepped off the train platform. Ed ran a nervous hand over the back of his neck wondering if he was actually there, right now. Maybe one day he would be, and Ed would find himself backed into an interrogation room where he'd be cuffed to a chair, facing an audience on the other side one way mirror as _he_ stepped inside, without a word, and began working him over. Ed would probably put up a little bit of a fight, but not too much. God help him, he would let him have his way.

He walked through East City's streets in his cheap country suit, and sometimes people would smile at him as if he was a normal person, a decent country man with back home morals underscored by his wedding ring. They had no idea they had a degenerate in their midst.

Ed went to the usual place. A bar where an older, heavyset woman always come out of a hidden door he could never quite place, somewhere between gin and hell, to serve him a whiskey and look him over as he sat on her stool. “Long time no see, honey.” She almost sounded like a man, and smoke came out from between her teeth as she smiled. They were yellow, like the walls. “Here for the usual?” There was no point in pretending. Ed gulped down his shot and nodded. “Yeah, sugar. He's on his way. Why don't you have another before you head on up?”

No one needed to show him where to go. Ed had been coming to room three on the second floor (first door to the left) for five years. He tried booking a hotel room on the other side of town, once. Call it an experiment, he wanted to see if he would call on him there. The only difference was a twenty minute delay.

 _You could go to the other side of Xing, and I would still know exactly where you are and what you're doing_.

He hung his clothes in the little wooden closet near the door, and sat on the bed, head down and hands clasped together, staring at his automail leg. She'd serviced it last Tuesday, insisting it was necessary, even though he hadn't done anything physical that would require work. _You never know,_ she had said. _You don't let me go up there with you, so at least let me make sure you're in tip top shape_. It smelled like fresh lubricant, and its metal gleamed in the light from the exposed bulb over his head.

Maybe she knew he didn't need to come up to East City to collect his military pension. Maybe she even knew why he lied. He couldn't say, because she never let on. She just gave him a sad little smile and a peck on the cheek every time he left her at the station. He kept thinking about that smile, on the ride, today. It was the same smile she had when he was in that damn wheelchair, years ago and told him she was so, so sorry, when he was the one who did something unspeakable.

There was a knock at the door. It was the kind of short, two beat warning people in authority used before letting themselves in. Ed stood up in his boxers and took a deep breath as the hinges creaked.

This was what he came here for.

 

~oOo~

 

He remembered how it felt, as a boy, to hate Colonel Mustang. From the moment he saw that smug, too-handsome face greeting him and Al at the train station, fresh from the country and full of childish ideals, Ed found the secret reservoir for all his adolescent fantasies, and soon discovered it was safe to lust after Colonel Mustang, and even express his sexual frustration with anger. Hell, he even gave as good as he got when Ed snapped at him. It felt good, even if it wasn't enough.

That dynamic changed, years later, the day Ed resigned his commission.

Ed remembered how his finger lingered over his, for only a fraction of a second too long, as he handed in his formal documents. “You might need me again, Edward Elric.” He would never forget how his eyes darkened, as he stared at Ed’s mouth. He never looked at him like that before, or if he had, he never let Ed see it. It made Ed feel a little dizzy.

Ed needed to put himself back on a more solid footing. He licked his lips nervously, not sure if he could parlay without being too harsh. “Maybe you'll need me, Mustang.”

“We will see.” His laugh was soft, his smile was warm. “You know where to find me. I'm going back to Eastern Command.”

Ed knew there was something possible in that promise, as sure as he knew Mustang was going to make Fürher one day. Ed gave him a wordless nod that could've meant anything. He didn't know how to qualify fantasies he’d only imagined, let alone know what the hell was going through Mustang’s head. But there was no denying he wasn't imagining things. Mustang wanted him.

“I’ll see you around, Ed.”

 

~oOo~

 

He never said hello. Never asked how his kids were doing, how Winry was. He probably knew Ed had a teaching job in Risembool proper, off of Main Street and Bryant, but never mentioned it. He didn't talk about Eastern Command, even though Ed knew, from the papers, that Brigadier General Mustang was in charge of the Ishvalan Reconstruction, charming Parliament with fine speeches from the dashing young General into more funding, despite the heavy weight of the Amestrian recession.

Those things were left on the other side of the door, which decisively clicked shut before Mustang moved forward in full uniform. “Edward.” Mustang filled the room with his presence, commanded authority as he stared Ed down, narrowing his eyes as he sized him up. “Tell me what you want.”

Ed’s face always burned during this part, but he's learned to get it over with, quickly. “Suck you, get fucked, and the other thing.” He pointed at his neck. “Safe word’s the same: Nitric Oxide. Two taps if I can't speak.”

Mustang nodded, as if Ed had given him a supply list. “Fine.” Any warmth he'd sensed from Mustang all those years ago, when he offered himself, was gone. Long gone. It left the moment he first showed up at East City to take Mustang up on his offer, wearing his damning wedding ring.

He put his clothes in the other closet, taking his time, carefully placing each garment in a hanger, with his back turned to Ed. He rolled his shoulders back and cracked his neck once he was completely naked.

And then he moved.

In a fraction of a second Mustang had whirled around and taken Ed by the ponytail, pulling him down. Fuck! Ed yelped. He would've fallen to the floor if Mustang wasn't holding him up. “On your knees, Edward. Come on.” Ed moaned as Mustang mercifully shoved his nose against his pubic bone. “I might let you suck my dick for an hour this time. Maybe just a few seconds. Nothing you say or do will influence that decision.” Good. He didn't want that kind of responsibility. He opened his mouth, salivating as Mustang maneuvered it toward his cock, positioning it with his hand, then rammed Ed’s face forward.

How many times had he jerked himself off in the little bathroom at the other side of the hallway, shoving his fingers in and out of his mouth, wishing he was back here, on his knees?

He wasn't a father, a husband, or a teacher, anymore. He was a boy, all over again, and this time Mustang was taking advantage of the boy, choking Ed with his dick as he fucked his face. Sometimes he would go slow, letting Ed focus so he swallow his cock down without gagging. Sometimes he sped up, never stopping despite the gagging and sobbing. And then, several times, he pushed his head down and forced him to stay there. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. His mind went completely blank as the edges blurred while he choked on Mustang’s dick. It felt good, like he was forgetting to exist, as he faded out a little.

He felt the rush when Mustang let him go. Oxygen, nitrogen, trace elements in the air filled his lungs as he was thrown on the bed. “Get the lube.” It was in the second drawer in the nightstand, but he could barely move. It took him a moment to collect himself. “Now, Edward.” Somehow he managed to comply.

Mustang turned away, combing the hair out of his eyes before he dribbled the shit on his fingers.

Ed couldn't help it. He had to test him. “Make it quick, asshole.” It was forced and Ed's voice cracked with the effort.

Instantly, Mustang straddled him on the mattress and grabbed his jaw. “You don't tell me what to do. Got that?” He shook his face when Ed cringed. “I will take all day if I want to, Edward. I might not even let you come until midnight. I might not let you come at all.”

He had to push back. If he didn't he didn't, he wouldn't get what he needed. “All day? Yeah, right, old man.”

He leaned down until Ed could see the fucking pits of hell burning in his eyes. “I could pump you so full, your sweet little wife will think you serviced my entire army when she sees it gushing out of your hole and down your legs.” He shook his face again. “Got it?”

He didn't have time to answer that. Mustang reached behind him and shoved two fingers in, deep and hard, only pausing to cover Ed’s mouth as he wailed. It fucking _hurt_ , just like he needed it to hurt. Then the hurt turned into something else when Mustang curled his fingers and pushed against him, right there.

Fuck...

Ed needed that hand to stay there, to shut him up so Mustang wouldn't hear him say how he needed this, needed him - fucking dreamt about him. God, that hand was pure mercy.

“You are my property once you're in my city. You will be used, however I want, whenever I want, wherever I find you, and for however long I want.” Mustang keeps his hand over his mouth as he positioned himself between his legs. “Mine.” He said it without emotion as he thrust into him.

Ed’s scream would've penetrated the walls if Mustang didn't shove his fingers into his mouth.

 

~oOo~

 

There was a time when Ed rejected the idea. He could've done it when he left for Creta, as a sort of last hurrah. He even toyed with it on his East City stop while he waited for the connecting train to Central. The warm summer breeze played with his hair, lulling him into a will-I-won't-I kind of in between state as he sat next to two military officers chatting about their orders to report to the new hot shot General over in Eastern Command.

Sure, he could walk with them to the big building st the edge of town. The staff at the front knew who he was. They'd let him in, all smiles, and he'd be smiling too, as he rode up that elevator shaft, hands in his pockets. And Mustang would let him in, Ed trusted that conjecture like the ground. He'd flirt, he'd offer him a drink, and then… something would happen. Maybe not in that office. Maybe in a discrete, fancy hotel room or even Mustang’s place. And it would be just as warm as that look he gave him when he resigned.

But he didn't get up to follow those soldiers when they left. He stayed back, holding on to the idea like loose change in his pocket. After all, he had a girl waiting for him back in Risembool, who smelled like apple pie and sunflowers. He could take Mustang’s offer or leave it. He held on to his change and took the next train to Central.

Turned out apple pie and sunflowers weren't enough to satisfy him. Once he got back, two months later with nothing to show for it but a missing automail foot and a pair of crutches, Winry removed his leg for repair and took him to bed. It was... sweet.

He watched her move above him, moaning about how much she loved him. It felt good, sure. But it felt like the same sort of good that came from patching her roof or fixing the plumbing. And when she rolled over and smiled at him, telling him this was just the beginning, he started thinking about that train to East City.

 

~oOo~

 

Sometimes Mustang made him get on his hands and knees. He would slap his ass, call him a whore, and pound balls deep into him. Sometimes he made Ed straddle his lap while he was sitting up on the bed, and ride his dick. But Mustang liked keeping Ed on his back, most of all, hovering over him, dominating him as he looked him the eye and fucked him.

It was hard, painful, brutal and it was fucking perfect.

“I own you.” Mustang slammed into him, again and again. “I could keep you in here, forever, not even lock the door, and you'd be waiting in here for me.” He already did, in Ed’s mind. Even when he was physically in Risembool, even when he was making love to his wife, making breakfast for little Alphonse and Marie, lecturing his class, hanging a fucking door - or just breathing - he was here, in spirit. This was where he truly belonged, with _him_. “Just one word and you'd do it.”

Oh, god! He would, too.

Ed nearly came, and he wailed as Mustang let go of his mouth and pinched the base of his cock. “Don't you dare. You don't come until I tell you.”

Ed squirmed as Mustang picked up the pace. “God I hate you! Just let me come!” His wrists twisted in the rope Mustang used to tie them to the headboard. “I need to come, you bastard!”

But that wasn't what he needed. No, Mustang wasn't near done with him. Ed gasped as his hands wrapped around his throat and squeezed. “You don't do a damn thing, not even breath, unless I let you.”

The edges went soft, and he fell through a hole in his mind, watching Mustang in a picture above him, as he receded further and further away.

“Now.”

When he let go, when the oxygen hit his system with explosive force, Ed was shot back out, screaming Mustang’s name as he came.

 

~oOo~

 

“You sure are in a better mood when you come back home.” Winry was busy tinkering with an automail hand for Old Man McClutchen, down the road. He’d lost his flesh hand in a shearing accident two years ago, and kept getting the new one mangled in the machine. Mrs McCutchen was getting so fed up, she was threatening to put him in it next time. “Well, at least you're not in as bad as a mood as you're in when you leave. I guess you get to catch up with old friends while you're up that way.”

Ed bounced Maria on his knee. “That, and collect my pay.” It was not a direct lie, but it was a terrible one.

“We should all go up there, one of these days. Let the kids find out this Alchemist of the People stuff isn't _all_ talk.” She winked at him. “Just _mostly_ talk.”

If he wasn't feeling guilty he could've set her straight, but he didn't have the heart or the right to be self aggrandizing. He was barely better than his own father. “I love you, Winry Elric.”

She sighed. “I love you, too, stupid.” Winry was about to say something important, he could tell because she took a deep breath and sat up as if it took effort to put the words together. She didn't notice when little Alphonse ran inside to steal more cookies, and Ed said nothing to the boy as the back door slammed. He was waiting for her to say the rest, but it never came out.

She didn't need to say it. He heard, loud and clear when he saw that tear: she knew.

 

~oOo~

 

“So, same time, next month?”

Mustang nodded as he shrugged his jacket on. His hair was in disarray, and Ed itched to smooth it out, but that was going over the line. The last time he made any sort of intimate gesture afterward, Mustang physically pushed him away. “Yeah.” He finally ran his hand through his hair. “I'll be around.”

Ed paused at the door. Mustang looked back at him with a weary expression as he held out an envelope. It was Ed’s pension. “Feels like you should be paying me, Edward.”

Ed hesitated to take the money. Mustang finally jammed it in his jacket pocket. But he didn't leave. No. His hands hovered over Ed’s shoulders.

“Would you tell me to stay, Roy?”

If Ed looked into his eyes, if he saw the same ache he was feeling in those eyes, he wouldn't have needed to be told - he would have stayed, anyway. But, no. Mustang shook his head and turned away. “Go home to your wife.”

Ed felt for the envelop in his pocket as he turned the knob and left. He was going to need another drink at the bar before he left for the station.


End file.
